The Other Side
by Wicked R
Summary: Somewhere, hiding deep inside Holmes, where Watson didn't suspect it, there was passion.Set: about a year after Homes returning from India and Tibet. Pairing: SherlockIrene.


Title: The Other Side  
Disclaimers: thank you so much Conan Doyle for these wonderful and exciting characters!  
Genre: romance.

Rating: nothing you should hide behind your palms for.  
Summary: Somewhere, hiding deep inside Holmes, where Watson didn't suspect it, there was passion.

Set: about a year after Homes returning from India and Tibet.

Pairing: SherlockIrene.

Notes: I don't ask for betas, I'm too impatient to wait for them correcting my "work"...but if you offer I won't say no, especially as I'm not all that much at home in 19th century England! Tell me what mistakes I make and I'll be grateful!

I was a Holmes fan when I was a young teenager. Since then, I haven't read anything on the subject, butI briefly saw some scene from a Sherlock Holmes films the other day that reminded me of a few story ideas I had back then when there was no fanfiction online...

Watson could tell Holmes was very nervous by the way his hands gripped the edge of the window sill when looking out. What he couldn't tell was why his friend was nervous all of a sudden. They had a pleasurable dinner together, talking about the newspaper articles they've both read and then suddenly Holmes threw the paper down a few minutes ago and started pacing up and down, taking a look out the window occasionally.

"Expecting someone?" Watson tried.

Holmes stopped pacing for a moment and folded his arms over his chest, looking Watson over, then continued whatever he was up to. If he wasn't in the mood to talk, Watson would not get anything out of him.

The doctor frowned and watched his younger friend with slightly pursed lips. Holmes' elaborated breathing, the look in his eyes, the abrupt nature of the occurrence was telling him something big was brewing and he'll get the chance to chronicle it as usual, he just had to wait till Holmes told him what in heavens he saw in the papers he didn't himself that got him so fevered!

There were footsteps coming from the staircase and Holmes jumped to open the door to Mrs. Hudson before she could actually say anything. "Show them in, please!"

The old landlady waved dismissively before going back down. It wasn't all that unusual for her famous lodger to know in advance he had visitors, but she just wished he would let her know of his forewarnings so she didn't have to climb up and down so many stairs. The visitors however, already followed her in, not waiting for an introduction either. Mrs. Hudson shook her head and closed the door behind her.

Dr. Watson stood up to greet the woman, whoever she was, but he didn't get the proper chance either. She stepped forward and placed a sleeping two year old looking boy down the couch, turning to Holmes and totally ignoring the doctor. "You're my last resort. I wouldn't come here otherwise. I'm not asking for much. Interpol's after a woman and a child. I have a plan worked out and I'm not going to tell you anything about it. If I leave him here with you, I can escape the hand of justice. But I have to go. Now. There's everything in the bag there he might need, including his birth certificate."

"You don't! Go, Irene," Holmes stepped to her and took her hands, ignoring Watson's existence just as much, given there was no time for charades indeed.

"Just don't!" Irene pulled her hands away and stared at the child, crying, "if you say one more word I'll not be able to say good bye to him," he continued to shallow her tears, "he'll be better off here, not entangled in a web of crime. Please Sherlock! He was born on the 22nd of June 1893. His name's..."

"Sherwin Adler and he's my son," Holmes finished the sentence for her looking over to the child, but not moving away from the door as a sign of not letting her step out.

Irene Adler, the international spy, that was all Watson knew about her and that there was a photo of her in Holmes' possession, gave the detective a little smile through her tears, "I knew you'd figure that much, it's not hard. He's got your eyes..." She found herself unable to tear herself away from the sight of the little boy smiling in his sleep.

"I figured much more Irene. The only thing I didn't know you would come this soon. You can't go to Cardiff! Gregson'll be there waiting for you. It's a trap! But I know a way, got disguises, transferred money, the whole plan, I can put it in action any time. I'll get...the boy...you get the bag!"

"No! You can't come!" She shook her head violently, "you can't leave everything for me again! We tried it, it doesn't work! You can't live in crime...let's not put ourselves up for failure again."

"It will be different this time. You see, I'm openly leaving with you, there's no way back. And I've got a letter from certain American powers asking me to help steal...uhm...I'll tell you later. It'll be fun, I promise! Let's go! That's the police's carriage I hear arriving!" At this moment, for the first time he turned back to the totally dumbfounded Watson, "I'm sorry, my dear friend. I lied. A lot. I was protecting Irene, you have to understand. I hope to see you again, but I won't guarantee it. Give us a head start, will you?...Back window in the kitchen," he told his beloved and took his child into that direction.

The End.


End file.
